


Love is a murder

by Van (Van_theMedic), Van_theMedic



Series: Jack Morrison Angst [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Assassination Attempt(s), Blood and Injury, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical Procedures, Poisoning, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Strike-Commander Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Temporary Character Death, Young Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Young Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Young Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Young Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Van_theMedic/pseuds/Van, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Van_theMedic/pseuds/Van_theMedic
Summary: For Jack, it was nothing new to get up before four in the morning to save the world. Or rather to cope with the sheer number of paperwork on his desk.This job would kill him eventually if he continued working like this. Even his genetically improved body could not endure so much stress in the long run, but he knew that already...- April 20th 2060 or the day on which Strike Commander Jack Morrison should have died
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes & Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Series: Jack Morrison Angst [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907602
Comments: 42
Kudos: 52





	1. Blood like poison

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [i don't love you (but i always will)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11408427) by [Ingu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingu/pseuds/Ingu). 



> This is my first major fic in long time so I hope you will enjoy it!  
> Got inspired by two great Overwatch fics already on here, so I thought why not try out and hurt your favorite Overwatch boy Jack Morrison yourself?  
> 

For Jack, it was nothing new to get up before four in the morning to save the world. Or rather to cope with the sheer number of paperwork on his desk. Countless applications, reports and other documents piled up on it, although he had only finished the last ones for this week yesterday afternoon. One thing was clear: This job would kill him eventually if he continued working like this. Even his genetically improved body could not endure so much stress in the long run, but he knew that already...

Overwatch needed him more than ever. Talon attacks were happening on a daily basis, null sector terrorized almost every town in Britain, smaller groups caused destruction in the rest of the world. He had to admit, he had no idea how and whom to help first most of the time.

Did they need more troops?

Should they increase patrols in cities?

The rules of war had changed since Talon had stepped up. Most of the time they didn't fight software-controlled robots but brainwashed people, mercenaries, soldiers.

Monsters.

They weren't even shying away from killing children if they were in the way. Money. Money and power.  
And chaos, of course. Destruction. Suffering. The only things that counted for them.

Jack had been struggling to defeat them for so long already. After the Omnic crisis, everyone believed in peace, prosperity and progress.. 

It was an illusion. A dream that could never happen.

But nobody cared about it as long as there were heroes to protect them. Jack didn't know how long he could do this still. How long it would take until everything came down. At some point,

Overwatch's collapse would be inevitable. Their fall would be inevitable.  
He sighed, leaned back in his office chair, and stared at the white ceiling above him, thinking.

Talon's goals seemed so pointless to him.

What were they even gaining from causing so much destruction? Would he ever understand?

Probably not, but how could he even with the extraordinary sense of justice he possessed?

Sighing, he peaked down on the paperwork sprawled out all over his desk.

He should get back to it but somehow his head ached like hell. In general he hadn't been feeling well in the last week, was even suffering from an inexplicably high fever since about two days and was doing his best to just ignore it. 

He didn't have the time to get sick, though, he was sure it was too late for that already.  
There was no time for a vacation. A break. Even if it wasn't beneficial for his health.. His genetically enhanced body would recover from it eventually although his temperature was skyrocketing at the moment ..

He couldn't afford sitting still when so many people relied on him. When the world was literally on resting his shoulders.

Jack leaned forward, rubbing his eyes. To make matters worse, he hadn't slept for more than an hour after being stuck at the gala dinner with the UN until 2.am in the morning. Charity events were a nuisance he could barely stand.  
A few nice words here and there and then maybe they'd receive some funding for Overwatch projects. Jack was deep in thought as his phone suddenly vibrated.

He picked it up and read the message on the screen.

It was from Ana, unsurprisingly. She had been looking after him a lot lately and he was sure he would have ended up in the infirmary long ago already if it wasn't for her.

Ana  
  
**Yesterday** 10:15 AM  
Hey, Soldier. Are you doing well?   
**Today** 9:05 AM  
Hello?  
I'm worried about you.  
**Today** 11:05 AM  
Please text me back!!  


The commander hastily typed out a more or less honest answer.

Ana  
  
**Yesterday** 10:15 AM  
Hey, Soldier. Are you doing well?   
**Today** 9:05 AM  
Hello?  
I'm worried about you.  
**Today** 11:05 AM  
Please text me back!!  
**Today** 3:08 PM  
I'm ok. dw.  


He could take care of himself after all, right?

The little fever would certainly not kill him, Ana was just exaggerating again. 

What he really needed was some peace and quiet and more than four hours of sleep at a time. 

Then it would get better by itself.

But some things never changed and Ana constantly fretting over them was one of them...

He pushed aside the stack of forms that were still missing his signature. They could wait until later. He needed a break. Had to get out. Go for a run, exercise, clear his head.

He slipped into his heavy blue uniform coat, picked up his tablet, and blinked briefly to clear his suddenly blurred vision. He blamed it on the fatigue but deep inside of him he knew it wasn't as simple as that. Had he really been overworking himself another time? Or was it just because of the UN constantly bothering him with their nonsense last night?  
The exhaustion washed over him unexpectedly and he had to hold onto the armrest of his chair so as to not fall on the floor.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Jack took a deep breath, tried to push back the headache, worsening it instead in the process.  
Breathing was an issue too now?  
Reluctantly, he pulled out a small pill bottle labeled "Emergency use only" from his desk drawer, picked a pill and swallowed it with a sip of water from a nearby glass.  
Angela prescribed the aspirin for him after he begged her to give him something against his insomnia.

The tiny pills were highly dosed, tailored for his super soldier metabolism and only there for absolute emergencies.  
Because she knew him well enough to tell that he would likely take several ones a day to avoid having to sleep altogether. His night terrors kept him up all night anyway...

Eventually, he decided to watch the rookies' training lessons after he realized he wouldn't be able to work out today. He was just too exhausted. Too done with paperwork.

Another deep breath, then slowly walked out the door.  
The way to the training facility seemed much longer than usual. The hallways seemed to stretch indefinitely. Weird, it had never been like this, not since Overwatch was founded. He knew the Swiss headquarters inside out by now...

Jack started to feel slightly disoriented and for a good couple of seconds he was afraid he might also start hallucinating as the walls were beginning to spin and melt into each other. 

It stopped after a minute or two and he was instantly relieved, he couldn't afford breaking down now, couldn't just take a day off, no, no he couldn't.

He deeply hoped his sickness would clear up by itself. If it didn't? Then he would definitely have a problem he wouldn't be able to deal with.

When he arrived, completely exhausted, pulse racing, he leaned against the observation deck's glass panel and looked at the agents from above.

Something was wrong with him, he was so sure of it. His body was turning against him slowly…

He felt a hand on his shoulder, immediately knowing to whom it belonged.

"Gabe?"

His friend (if they still were) stood next to him, remaining silent for a moment.

"The Rookies are not that bad."

What did he really want? Why was he here? Surely not because of him, right?

Was he just recruiting for Blackwatch again?

Did he still care about him?

They were both too busy to talk, to see each other and there was so much Jack wanted to tell him, but he couldn't. Not now. Not here.

He turned back to face the observation window.

"Mhm ..."

He mumbled under his breath, nodding briefly. Gabriel didn't answer.

Jack wanted to punch something, he was so fed up with being ignored by him. He was … they were ...

He wanted things to be like they were before his promotion to the Strike Commander of Overwatch. Even if Gabe preferred Blackwatch by now...

They had shared an apartment back then. Now Jack was sleeping in his office, sometimes in his room, but more often just on his desk.

Overwatch had become his life. Work had become his life. 

Morrison straightened himself, thinking of reaching out for Gabriel to hug him, kiss him, even if the rookies could see him. 

He didn't care, couldn't care. He needed it now, for the peace of his mind. To finally forget about the stupid headache and constant stress.

However, his body seemed to disagree with his intentions. 

What had started as a slight disorientation became dizziness, so violently that he almost collapsed against the glass. At the last moment, he caught himself, pushed himself up and tried to calm his breath. Jack had to close his eyes briefly to avoid vomiting in front of Gabriel.

Why? Why did that just happen?

He was just tired and hadn't eaten all day, no wonder his metabolism was at rock's bottom.

But his gut told him that it was more than that. That it was something serious this time..

Yet, he was extremely good at ignoring that impending feeling of doom...

Even when he opened his eyes again, the nausea did not subside and everything appeared to be blurred, washed out at the edges and sharper towards the middle....

"You okay, Jack?" Reyes cocked his head with some kind of concern on his face

"Y-yeah," Jack said, nodding halfheartedly before falling into a light coughing fit.

"Peachy ..." 

He mumbled illegibly, just for himself because he knew, no he felt, it was more than a fever. 

He closed his eyes another time and opened them, irritated by the steadily growing pressure on his chest. There was a weird tingling sensation all over his body.

"You Sure?" Gabriel seemed serious, but Jack found himself unable to answer him.

No, he wasn't sure at all. With trembling hands, he rubbed his chest slowly, trying to relieve the pain a little. It didn't help in the slightest however, he was light-headed and sick and his vision still didn't seem to be clearing up. 

He couldn't tell what was wrong to him..

Why was his condition deteriorating so quickly? Why was the pain so excruciating out of a sudden? Everything had been fine ten minutes ago.

Now he could hardly breathe and barely managed to stay on his feet. Why was it so difficult to breathe?!

He slowly slid down the glass he was leaning against, but Gabriel didn't seem to notice, he was still watching the agents fighting each other.

Jack wanted to scream, beg him to help, somehow, but not a single syllable got past his lips.. Not even a groan. Everything seemed so far away, he lost focus, the colors blurred into each other. 

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get enough oxygen into his starving lungs.

The commander was on his knees now, wheezing, gasping for every breath that failed to enter his lungs.. Someone was shouting something, but the voices seemed so distant…

He couldn't see anything, feel nothing, think nothing.

He was barely conscious, but he felt the pain, very clearly, in his head, in his chest, in his whole body. Blinking faintly, he noticed the Overwatch logo on the ceiling above him, it was spinning, everything was spinning. There was a hand on his cheek, the voice was back, louder, yet incomprehensible.

Everything hurt. Everything hurt.

He was unable to breathe and felt paralyzed, his body didn't respond when he tried to move. His hand only twitched briefly when he tried to lift it once.

Jack was completely helpless, could only stare at the ceiling while fighting unconsciousness.

Didn't even notice how much his friend begged him to stay with him. 

Couldn't see how scared he was. How afraid he was of losing him.

Nothing made sense anymore. All he knew was the unbearable pain that was racing through his body.

Jack was afraid, his eyes still looking for Gabriel but he couldn't find him. His breath grew weaker, he coughed several times, his head lolled to the side and if his vision hadn't been so incredibly blurry, he would have noticed the rookies staring up at the observation deck in blank horror. 

“Jack… stay with me… please”

_It's over…._

His last thoughts before giving in to the sweet relief of unconsciousness.

~

Gabriel couldn't believe what was happening. Jack collapsed in his arms, unmoving, unconscious, gasping for breath. He was pale, so pale, and his forehead was burning up from the fever he had tried to push back for so long.

No matter how many times he shook him, called out his name, it didn't work.

His friend was lifeless and his usually captivating blue eyes didn't want to open. He didn't respond. It was surreal, almost as if he was caught up in a terrible nightmare.

Please, please, it couldn't really happen, could it?

"Jack?... come on ... please ..."

Gabriel pleaded with him, shook him again, nothing. Nothing at all.

"You ain't gonna die.... Jackie please ... Don't do this..."

He activated his headset, his voice close to screaming when he asked for help. Anyone, someone, please?

There had to be something he could do! They could do?! Whatever was wrong with Jack …

They were running out of time. Jack was running out of time. Gabriel felt his pulse weaken and weaken and only pressed him closer to himself. One hand gently stroked his blonde hair, the other propped him up, put his head on his thighs and tried to support his shallow breaths as best he could.

"Come on ... come on .. I can't lose you ..."

Jack's chest stopped rising before he could finish what he wanted to say ...


	2. Too little, too late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Jack more or less dead, Gabriel is beginning to question himself...

Gabriel couldn’t remember how long he had held Jack in his arms later. Lifeless, dead, his chest unmoving. It was a nightmare, just a nightmare…  
He must be imagining this, it couldn't be real! It was too cruel to be real.  
Jack wasn't supposed to die. Didn't deserve to.  
Why him? Why?  
Why now? Why now when everything was getting better and he…  
He was going to ask him out.  
Dinner, date, whatever.  
Just. Be. Together. For once in their busy life.  
If they couldn't even share a room.  
But Jack had always pushed him back, closed himself up in his stupid serious Strike Commander shell.  
It hadn't been the real Jack. This…  
This was the real Jack, lying in his arms.  
So vulnerable. So helpless.  
He had dropped his attitude when he collapsed.  
Wasn't the strong invincible leader he was supposed to be. The media made him to be. The UN liked him to look like.

Gabriel noticed he was crying now, didn't know what to do. Should he…just wait for the medics?  
They'd know how to save him, right? They could still save him. They had to.. please...he couldn't die….  
"I got you...got you…"  
He sobbed, carefully rocking his body back and forth.  
Please, respond! Please be alive!  
He couldn't be dead! He was still warm, still smelled like Jack, looked like him, so beautiful, so so incredibly beautiful.  
If it wasn't for him being so motionless.  
He vaguely heard voices in the back, shouting out in horror, rushing to him, trying to get a hold of Jack's body but Gabe wouldn't let go.  
Angela, why wasn't Angela here already?. Who were those people. What did they want with Jack?

They were trying to pull him away from his friend's - or was he still his boyfriend? - body but he wouldn't let them. No, no if Jack had to die somewhere, it would be in his arms.  
_"Sir, please…"_  
One of the medics begged him but he didn't listen. Wouldn't hear their desperate pleas. No, he would only leave him to Angela. Couldn't trust anyone else.  
_"The Commander has no pulse…_ "  
Gabe didn't move a muscle, didn't say a word. Of course he didn't. He was dead. He wouldn't let go of him. No. Never. He pushed the medic's hand off Jack's wrist, wouldn't even let him touch him further. How did they even dare to…  
_"Sir….!"_  
Nothing. Why wouldn't they leave already? He wouldn't...  
Gabriel was pulled out of his trance when Ana entered the room, her presence instantly calming him, like it always did, reassuring him that everything would eventually turn out fine. She was the one of the few people he fully trusted.  
_"Let them work on him, Gabriel."_  
Just like that, he let go.  
Handed him over to the medics who frantically started to compress Jack's chest only seconds later.  
Gabriel felt nothing anymore, his mind empty, hands shaking.  
What had happened? What the fuck had happened?  
What did he do?  
Did he just…  
He hadn't allowed them to help Jack.  
He probably killed him. He let him die.  
Didn't let him down so they could get him back…  
_"Vike, push 5 mg of epi stat…"_  
Everything was in a blur. He just noticed the medics doing their best to save Jack's life but he didn't trust them and all he could see was how dead he looked and how he was turning blue already...  
_"Johnson, take over compressions, I'm going to intubate…"_  
They'd torn his shirt, Gabe knew it was his favorite, back from SEP when life was easier…  
He'd be pissed when he found out.  
But he had to survive first before he could be…  
Had to pull through so he could mourn this stupid T-shirt he never really liked anyways because he was an idiot. A stupid idiot.  
Gabriel didn't know if he should laugh or cry.  
He felt so empty. So hollow.  
He still wasn't sure if this was actually happening or if it was one of his countless nightmares again.

Jack died in them more often than he could count. Either due to Omnics or Talon…  
Never like this. Never at home.  
Never in his arms.  
In his dreams he just vanished, slipped away from his fingers before he could even touch him. Gone without a trace. Gone without a sound.

This was different, so it couldn't be a dream, right? This was real and terrible and he wanted it to end but it wouldn't…  
He could only stare at Jack with horror in his eyes, watching the medics in disbelief.  
It couldn't be…  
He couldn't die like this.  
He was meant to die on the battlefield, go out in a blaze just like he lived.  
Not…dropped dead on the floor like he did.  
Unconscious from one second to another.  
People didn't die like this in their thirties.  
Something was off but Gabriel was too confused, too exhausted to realize.  
To care.  
Jack was dead.  
It didn't matter why and how.  
At least for now it didn't.  
Later it would.  
When the rage would consume him.  
When nothing could hold him back from taking revenge on whomever did this to him.  
They loaded Jack onto a stretcher, still compressing his chest, still pushing air into his lungs, still trying their best.  
But it was hopeless.  
Jack was gone, gone, gone and it was his fault!  
If only he reacted faster, if only he wasn't so stupid, so blind, he would have seen that he hadn't been well all the time and called for help way earlier.  
His pride had held him back.  
His hope.  
His nonchalance.  
There hadn't been a single doubt about Jack's health in his mind.  
He was a super soldier. Genetically modified to survive, adapt and overcome everything and everyone in his way.  
Just not...this time.

Ana slowly knelt down next to Gabriel, put a steady hand on his shaking shoulders, offered him support as he sobbed and grieved. He avoided any eye contact her with, his gaze focused on his trembling hands, the hands Jack died in.  
He could still the weight of his limp body, could still see his lifeless face.  
He hated that he now knew how it felt to hold his dying friend.  
Dying boyfriend.  
War buddy.  
Whatever.  
They loved each other.  
He knew.  
Or at least assumed.  
Jack never said anything.  
Nor did he.  
It was complicated and he didn't want to think about it when Jack was…  
_"Gabriel?"_  
He heard Ana's voice, clear and with some sort of concern in it. She was worried of course she was.  
How could she not be?  
But she didn't understand.  
"Estoy bien…"  
He mumbled, lied, it wasn't true, he wasn't fine.  
He couldn't be.  
_"Gabriel? Stop lying to me. I know it's hard…"_  
Something inside him snapped at her words  
"Hard? You are kidding me...difìcil?"  
He pulled away from her, scrambled onto his knees, wiping the tears from his face.  
_"You have to get your shit together, Reyes. it won't help him if you…"_  
Gabriel wouldn't even let her finish.  
"How... how can you talk about him like this?! Like...like he's... anyone…"  
It was incredulous how she could ever say such a thing. Jack was her best friend. She was his second in command.  
How could she just act professionally now when everything they knew was collapsing around them.  
When their world was on the verge of breaking down completely.  
_"Look...I didn't mean to...I'm scared too but I can't let my fear show to anyone else ... Overwatch needs us now that Jack... Blackwatch needs you now."_

He couldn't be their leader.  
Not when he wasn't even strong enough by himself. When he couldn't even take this like a Commander. How he should.  
He couldn't.

"Why him. Why not me?"  
Gabriel paused, sucked in a deep gulp of air.  
Fortuna caeca eat.  
Fate is blind.  
Luck wasn't on their side.  
It had been, during the Omnic crisis, during the last years they spent on building Overwatch, forming the heroic organization as it was known as today. There had been too many close calls they shouldn't have survived.  
But they had. Every. Single. Time.  
Every single one of them.  
They weren't even at war.  
Yet he was unable to protect Jack.

_"Some things… are out of our control no matter how much we wish they weren't. It was only a matter of time."_

She was right. He hated that she was.  
Gabriel despised the feeling of helplessness. Of being at loss.  
There was nothing worse than being defenseless.  
At mercy of the enemy.  
Had he given up already?  
Had they lost the fight already?  
Was it all over before it even started?  
He couldn't be the Strike Commander.  
He didn't want to be.  
Overwatch ceased to be his a long time ago.

It could never be his again.  
Not in a lifetime.  
"Leave... please…"  
He wanted to be on his own, cry up here even though the rookies were probably still staring at him.  
He didn't care, couldn't care.  
Not now. Before he could ask her again, Ana's soft hands gently wrapped around his back and she whispered into his ear.  
_"Jack's a fighter. You know that. He's always been."_  
And with that, she was gone, left.  
Like Jack earlier.  
He was on his own again.  
Gabriel collapsed onto his knees.  
-

Angela had never been this scared in her whole life. Jack Morrison was dead.  
Or dying. Something in between?  
She didn't know what to make of Athena's information exactly.  
She knew he passed out, stopped breathing for no obvious reasons.  
Just like that.  
She'd heard of cases similar before.  
Sudden cardiac death. But Jack..Jack had a clean bill of health.  
There had never been something wrong with his heart.  
Not that she'd know of.  
What if she missed it on his last check-up?  
What if it was her fault their Commander was dying?  
What if she could have prevented all of this?  
The closer she came to the trauma bay, the more her nervousness tried to get the better of her.  
What if she failed to save Jack?  
What if he died for good?  
What if they'd lose him forever now?

Despite their arguments and different opinions, she still looked up to Jack.  
He was an amazing leader.  
A good person.  
Kind. Funny.  
Down-to-earth.

There whenever she needed him.  
Even at ungodly times in the mornings.  
Whenever he was called, he came.  
It didn't matter why or when.  
He was there.

_"Take care, Jack."_  
_"Don't worry, Angela. I will be just fine."_

She tried to calm herself, took deep breaths.  
Why? Why was this happening?  
What had happened?  
What were his symptoms?  
She should be focusing on those things, not on her guilt complex.  
That was a thing she could deal with later.  
Right now, Jack needed her and she couldn't let him down.

Upon entering, she could barely see Jack behind all of the medics working on him. Shouting orders at each other.  
Though what she saw…  
"He's crashing..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the nice comments and kudos!  
> Next chapter is coming soon :)


	3. Losing control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel's world is slowly beginning to crumble...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Angst? Not unlikely! Enjoy :)

The cool air of the infirmary mixed with the intense stench of antiseptics brought Gabriel back to reality. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting in the waiting area, hoping for any updates on Jack's condition but there was nothing. No doctor nor nurse in sight.  
It was eerily quiet, too quiet for his taste.  
The calm before the storm…  
He rested his head on his knees, noticing he was still shaking. Shivering like an idiot…  
Jack was in the best hands, he'd come out of this fine and he could go visit him later and everything would be like it used to…  
Yeah no.  
He should really stop with that wishful thinking.  
Nothing was ever going to be normal again.  
Not even if Jack survived, what was - considering how slim his chances actually were - not very likely.  
It meant that he was going to be the Strike Commander of Overwatch. Him or Ana.  
They wouldn't choose anyone else for the job.  
Their agents wouldn't accept someone new as their leader.  
They needed Jack.  
He needed Jack.  
Gabriel started sobbing again, desperate.  
He didn't want all of this.  
He wanted him and Jack to live in peace goddamnit!  
Not…  
Constantly fearing for each other's lives. Never knowing for sure if the other would come home again…  
Jack wouldn't be coming home tonight.  
He wouldn't enter his apartment like he used to, wouldn't hang his signature coat, wouldn't collapse on his bed, totally exhausted from the day, without even eating something.  
Today he wouldn't sleep in his bed.  
Well, if he'd ever even wake up again…  
Jack wouldn't wish him a good night despite his tiredness.  
Jack wouldn't get a quick coffee in the morning with him tomorrow.  
Jack wouldn't call him into his office tomorrow.  
Instead, he would be either fighting for his life in the ICU or laying down in their morgue.  
Gabriel prayed it would be the former.  
Even if a quick death might have been more merciful.  
Jack deserved a chance to come back to them.  
He was strong enough.  
He had to be.  
Please let him be.  
-  
"Time of death 5:13 PM…"

There was the familiar snap of gloves being disposed into the trash can, the medics giving up after having worked on their Commander non-stop for over an hour.  
It was no use.  
He'd no chance of survival.  
His heart stood still, wouldn't beat again.  
He wouldn't breathe…  
Yet his body was still warm.  
There was life deep inside him but they hadn't managed to bring it back up onto the surface.

"Bitte. Bitte…"

Angela begged silently in German, he gloved hands pushing down on his chest hard, her face showing the whole extent of her devastation.  
They couldn't save Jack. She couldn't save him.  
It was all for nothing.  
Everything they accomplished.  
Everything they did in the last months.  
Created, built up from scratch.  
Useless.  
Not even their most fancy tech had been able to resurrect him.

"Come on. You cannot leave us…"

She held back her tears, her voice broken, barely audible. No, he couldn't be dead. He couldn't be gone. Jack wouldn't do this to them.

"Dr. Ziegler…"

She wouldn't listen.  
They wanted her to stop but she wouldn't.  
There had to be a way.  
A cure.  
Something she could do.  
It didn't matter how, Jack had to survive.

"Angela…"

The doctor stubbornly shook her head.  
No.  
No.  
No.  
She lost too many good people already.  
Too many agents who would have deserved so much more in their short lives.

Eventually, she paused, no, stopped.  
Panting. Exhausted.  
It was all for nothing.  
A tear escaped her eye, dripped onto the white-tiled floor.  
It couldn't end that way, not that way. She couldn't let it happen.  
He had to live, he had to keep fighting.  
For everyone's fate.  
He wasn't meant to die here.  
Cruelly suffocated...  
Overwatch would be lost without him, they would all be.  
All the effort for nothing?  
Absolutely nothing.

Angela gasped when she saw a small line on the heart monitor peak, closely followed by more.  
She grinned almost immediately under her mask.

"Heroes never die."

So the saying wasn't wrong after all.

"We've got a pulse back…"

-

Time passed like nothing in the medbay.  
Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours, hours like entire days.

Gabriel rubbed his eyes with one hand, the exhaustion now finally setting in after what must have been hours of crying and weeping. He couldn't remember anything.

Why hadn't he noticed earlier? Why did it take him so long to call for help? If Jack died ... If Jack was dead… if he…

Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief when he heard footsteps nearing him.  
High-heels.  
Angela.  
Thank god.  
That was a good sign, right?  
It meant Jack was alive, right?  
Or..  
The opposite?  
He looked up, saw her smile at him with her usual professionalism absolutely nobody could read.  
She was hiding her emotions in a perfect poker face.  
Gabriel hated nothing more than that right now.  
He wanted her to be open, confront him, tell him the fucking truth about Jack…  
No more sugarcoating.  
"How is he?"

Angela's expression instantly changed from professional to worry which only fueled his anxiety.

"He's alive."

He almost fell off his chair.  
Jack was alive!? He lived?! He fucking survived?

"But his condition is still life-threatening."

Gabriel's euphoria evaporated in seconds.  
Life threatening?  
He could still die?

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Angela placed a hand on his shoulder, braced him for what was to come. She dreaded having to tell him.

"Jack won't survive the night most likely…"

Gabriel backed off, fell into his chair. No, no, god no.  
He was really going to die and there was no way to help him?  
Jack would just leave him without a fight?  
Just… gone…

"He still has a chance but…"

He didn't want to hear her euphemisms.  
Her hopeful words. He needed the truth. Nothing else.

"Give it to me straight, Angela."

He recalled Jack, lifeless in his arms. Deathly pale and silent.  
Could suddenly feel the heaviness of his dying body in his arms again.

"His circulation is failing. His organs can't keep up, he isn't getting enough oxygen and the high fever is compromising his brain. It won't be long until…"

Gabriel nodded. He understood.  
Jack's body had given up. Whatever had happened to him.

"Why…"

He breathed, his head falling back into his neck.  
He would never go on that date with Jack.  
He would never get to see him grow old with him.  
He would never hold him in his arms again.

"I believe… he was poisoned."

Gabriel's eyes widened in shock, then in realization.  
It all made sense now.  
Jack's symptoms. The headache he'd been complaining about at the gala.  
The sweating, the fever, the trouble breathing…  
Poison.  
Fucking poison.  
Hell, somebody must have poured something in his drink last night.  
It just needed a longer time to take effect on Jack's body.

"They wanted to kill him…."

The assassins were getting better and better each time.  
It was only logical that something must have slipped through this time.  
Though... what would come next?  
A bomb?  
A knife?  
An explosion?  
An accident?  
He would never leave Jack out of his eyes ever again.

"They did. But we won't let them. Trust me."

She patted his arms and left him behind, probably hurrying to her next patient.  
But Gabriel couldn't leave now.  
It made sense.  
All of it.  
The UN had been acting strange all night.  
Suspiciously so …  
What if they wanted to get rid of Jack?  
What if he was next?

Whoever it was,

Somebody had to pay for this.

-

Gabriel didn't dare enter Jack's room, just stared through the observation window in disbelief.  
He couldn't stand seeing him so weak for long.  
Barely holding on with the help of the machines.  
Covered in the golden glow of the biotics keeping his condition halfway stable.  
He looked like death himself.  
Broken. Frail.  
Struggling to survive.  
Yet Gabriel couldn't avert his eyes.  
Needed to take in as much of him as he still could.  
His facial features, that golden hair, now brittle, not shiny like it used to.  
It was his signature, people recognized him, by his voice, by his hair, by his uniform.  
Jack didn't have none of that at the moment.  
Maybe...  
Maybe that was one of the few moments in which he could just be himself. Jack.  
Not Strike Commander Morrison.  
Just Jack.  
Even if he was dying.  
He was at least dying a free man.  
Not a puppet of the UN.  
Of the press.  
Of the world.

How long did he even have?  
Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

Or was he lucky enough to see another day? Who knew? Nobody could tell.  
They didn't even know what the poison was nor where it originated from.  
If he took it in with food or drinks, if he was stabbed, hurt, if somebody had injected it.  
Who the culprit was.  
How they looked like.  
What affiliation they had.  
Talon probably.  
What else?  
He'd been on their hit list for so long already.  
They'd both been.  
Yet it hit Jack and not him…

Something else didn't want to leave his mind either. It had been bugging him ever since he'd been waiting for Jack to get out of the trauma bay.  
If Jack had stayed in bed longer today, if he hadn't gone to work, if he would have taken the day off…

He'd have died alone.  
Afraid.  
In horrible pain.  
Without anyone holding him like he did.  
He would have died.  
Would have died without anyone even noticing.  
Was it better like this?  
What if they only prolonged his suffering?  
What if he should have let him die?  
What if it would have been best?

Gabriel touched the glass parting him from his unresponsive body, from his friend, no boyfriend, no war buddy, whatever.  
There was a loud humming, he could hear it outside, Jack's chest rising and falling unnaturally, sickly, sweat coating his body.

Maybe it was the wrong decision to keep him alive at all cost after all?

Gabriel closed his eyes, shook his head to himself.

"No, no I still need him."

He couldn't let go of him.


	4. No way out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the UN now interfering, Jack's time left is threatened to get cut even shorter...

Gabriel knew that they couldn't keep this from the press forever. Agents were gossiping all over the Watchpoint already and he had overheard a conversation between two secretaries speculating about their Strike Commander only minutes ago.

Nothing too bad, they guessed, he must have overworked himself again, like he used to, frequently. Only that he hadn't.

That it wasn't his fault.

It was…

Well he didn't know.

He hated that he didn't.

He wanted to, no needed to.

Couldn't let them get away with it.

Under no circumstances.

The cafeteria was as busy as usually, agents rushing around, food trays in their hands, glad to finally find time to eat lunch and forget about the pressure of the world resting on their shoulders.

He was one of them, once, long ago, before politics and useless rules ruined all for him. For them. That's why he created Blackwatch.

To finally stop playing by the book and yet he still had to. No matter if he wanted or not.

It wasn't his choice.

If it were, he'd have left the Headqurters long ago, would already hunt down the assassins…

_ "Commander Reyes, sir...?" _

One of the Rookies carefully raised his voice to address him. Wait, he knew him.

He'd been training yesterday.

He'd been watching when Jack...

_ "Is Commander Morrison....alright, sir?" _

The way he hesitated before finishing the sentence made Gabriel shiver.

They didn't know anything, could they? Nobody could have told them anything. Besides the gossip there wasn’t anyone else who knew but him, Ana and the med staff. And the UN…maybe

He didn't say a word, thought to himself without breaking eye contact with the young man.

Impressive.

He hadn't looked away yet. Hadn't even winked once.

If the situation wasn't so dire, he might have considered taking him into Blackwatch.

**Atlas News - Just in**

**_The Strike Commander of Overwatch, Jack Morrison, appears to be in a critical condition after a training exercise yesterday afternoon. We are yet awaiting an official statement of Overwatch and the UN._ **

Silence. The nobody in the cafeteria dared to say a word, most too shocked from what they'd just heard. Their Commander - in a critical condition?!

Impossible? Wasn't it?

Gabriel sighed.

Great. Now everyone knew. He should prepare for a mass panic.

He shook his head at the Rookie before he turned around on his heels, leaving the room more urgently than he would have wanted to.

He couldn't stand a bunch of freaking out soldiers now.

Should Ana take care of them, or Reinhardt or…

They were always better at such things. So much better than him.

He was a tactician, the brain of the team, not the soul.

Jack was that. 

Would always be.

No matter what happened.

-

A little later, he was back in his office, alone, to himself.

Figured it was best after everything. He still had paperwork to do, forms that needed filling, reports that had to be written or looked over.

If he went by that, he could work for days straight.

Just like Jack did before this happened.

So often, Gabriel barely even saw him anymore.

What had happened between them?

Why had they drifted apart from each other?

Why were they losing themselves even?

He hadn't recognized Jack back then when they watched the training. As if he was a completely different person. Someone else. Just not himself.

As if he was broken…

As if he couldn't go on…

Jack couldn't have done this to himself, right?

He couldn't have poisoned himself?

He couldn't have attempted to kill himself?

No…

No Jack wasn't like this?

Deep inside of him he wasn't so sure of that anymore though…

_ "Gabe?" _

He looked up, spotted Fareeha at the door to his office, nervously fumbling with the hem of her thin sweater.

_ "How is Uncle Jack?" _

Perfect. The last thing he needed now.

Ana's kid asking about him too.

But he couldn't refuse to tell her.

They were way too close for him to do that.

"Bad…"

It hurt to say that. A lot. More than it should probably. He was a Commander; he should take this professionally…

Jack...Jack was just his co-worker and he'd forget about him and just stop loving him.

Sure…

_ "How bad… _

Gabriel could see Jack in front of him again, choking, dying, and he froze up, staring at her with empty eyes.

"Fareeha..

It was enough, he couldn't…

No.

No.

Please.

_ "Tell me the truth!" _

No way she wouldn't let him get out of this easily. She was just like her mother...

"On a scale of 1 to 10? 20."

Both were silent for a brief moment.

20.

A straight fucking 20.

Because fuck…

Jack was doing terribly.

"At least it was like this when I last visited him…”

Which was…

Well a while ago. He was kind of distancing himself of Jack now because…

Well it hurt. It hurt like hell to see him more dead than alive and barely holding on.

_ "Can I go with you next time? I want to see him if…" _

She couldn't get herself to add 'he doesn't make it'.

It would only hurt Gabriel more.

Leaving it unspoken was…

Well, worse somehow.

It left more room for interpretation but that also meant more room for negativity.

For the worst-case scenario.

For Jack's imminent death...

"I'm...I'm not sure if you can handle seeing him...like this …"

He made a desperate gesture with his hand, unsure how to tell her. Or if he should even. Wasn't she too young for that?

Wasn't she too…?

_ "Please, don't be like mom. I need to see him, I beg you." _

Ana wanted only the best for her, he was aware, but sometimes…

Sometimes the best wasn't always the easiest and least horrible way.

Sometimes the best was the most gruesome way to choose.

Gabriel had experienced that all too often on the battlefield to neglect it.

"Fine. Come. Now."

Fareeha now seemed visibly relieved, a small smile even returned to her lips.

_ "Thanks uncle Gabe. I won't forget about that." _

-

"You're suggesting WHAT again?"

Ana glared at the UN spokesman sitting in front of her office desk, couldn’t believe a word he had just said __

_ "An honorable discharge. Either that or…" _

The UN representative leaned in closer, pushing a staple of papers into her direction.

_ "A way to end his suffering." _

__ There was a weird smile on his face as he presented his idea – no, the UN’s idea – so straightforwardly, so openly, as if it was nothing but a blatant formality, a document she had to sign so they’d shut up and leave Overwatch be.

But it wasn’t.

This stupid piece of paper was deciding whether Jack would live or not. Whether he could remain their Commander or not – though both went hand in hand.

Jack didn’t have anyone else but them. His family was Overwatch, his soldiers, his rookies…

She couldn’t allow them to remove him – to leave him over at an ordinary hospital and slowly watch him die.

Nor to watch him die here because the UN thought he was nothing but a waste of time and money for them.

Unable to ever be profitable again.

To be their shining propaganda boy.

To be their puppet.

They were looking for a new one, if they didn’t have one already…

"You mean... that's...I can't."

Her answer was no, on both options obviously, but she couldn’t tell him like that. The captain had to find another way. Provide him with more information, so he’d consider something else, so the politicians at the UN could make up their minds and do something good for once.

_ "It's not illegal in Switzerland." _

_ Ana was speechless for a second. That was his argument? It’s not illegal?! _

"Are you completely insane?!"

The representative held back a chuckle, shook his head.

"He is dying anyways."

The words came so easily over his lips as if it was a fact, the future, as if there was no way around it, no hope left.

It devastated her how disposable Jack seemed to them. How his life was thrown away without a single thought…

"No, he isn't, he is recovering, and it will take time but…"

She didn’t know if he would even, couldn’t tell for sure if he would ever be the same. Or if he’d even survive this whole ordeal.

_ "You don't have a cure yet.” _

He voiced her concerns despite not knowing them. Despite not even knowing Jack and deep inside herself, Ana felt he was somehow right. What if they were only making Jack suffer longer? What if he was a hopeless case anyways?

"No but…"

_ "But what? Without, he has no chance, he's just wasting expensive resources. We're better off choosing a new leader for Overwatch." _

_ Just as she had guessed before – it always was about the money and never about them. The UN would sell their lives away any day if it meant a profitable earning for them. _

_ They weren’t their heroes as they’d always liked to portray them. _

_ They were – to say it rather bluntly – their cash cows. _

"No."

Never, not if she still had some saying in Overwatch. They couldn’t do this behind their back, right?

They couldn’t do this without her confirmation, right?

_ "You don't get to decide that. I'll... ask the UN and a few other higher up members of Overwatch…" _

__ Here it was, the other members who of course had such a different opinion on the matter…

She repressed a sigh.

" _ They  _ will tell you exactly the same as I did."

The man stood up just after she had finished the sentence, shoving the papers in her direction one last time before turning to leave her office.

_ "We'll see about that. Have a good day...Strike Comm- Captain Amari." _

Before she’d even know…she yelled after him, too frustrated, too exhausted, too mentally disturbed to grasp everything he had just told her in the last few minutes.

"Fuck you!"

-

Both stood in front of the room, silent, unmoving, frozen on the spot. Only a thin wall parted them from Jack. A privacy curtain hanging from a track on the ceiling, drawn to protect him from unwanted views. “Jack Morrison, Strike Commander”, it said on a card inside the slide-in flap on the wall, as if there was any chance he wasn’t. As if everyone had to be constantly reminded of the fact that their leader was inside, clinging to his life.

He took a deep breath, then slowly entered through the propped open class door.

Immediately the acrid smell of disinfectant hit him hard, it had been horrible outside in the hallway already but somehow inside it was ten times worse.

Gabriel loathed the smell. It reminded him of the endless pain in SEP when they used to pump them full of shit he couldn’t even pronounce right. But they lived. They survived despite everybody doubting it. They proved them wrong and would do it again.

There were two unused chairs right next to the entrance and Gabriel grabbed one without paying attention to Fareeha at all. He was with Jack now; he was needed now.

Walking past the curtain, he set it down at Jack's bedside and took a seat, only now daring to look at him. His condition hadn’t changed at all and if, probably only took a turn for the worse. 

The blond-haired soldier, once so incredibly strong, so invincible, was ashen, sweating from the high fever, his whole body sporting a sickly grey complexion. On top of that, Gabriel noticed to his horror that his friend's lips had already turned blue shade. 

He didn’t get enough oxygen anymore, couldn’t breathe right because the poison was blocking his airways... 

Gabriel averted his eyes for a moment, focused on the bright yellow light of the biotic healing field Jack was lying under, watched how placed next to the machines illuminated the room almost completely in gold and mixed with the sun rays falling through the blinds of the tall window, hiding the view of the bustling city of Zurich.

Everything was too bright, too sterile. Gabriel hated it so much.

In an attempt to ignore it, he let his gaze wander, took in everything.

The many life-supporting machines. The monitors, which beeped at irregular intervals. 

The tube going down Jack’s trachea through which he was artificially ventilated… 

It was so cruel, so terrible to watch Jack suffer.

Behind him Fareeha started to steer, coming out of her shock. She probably hadn’t expected it to be that bad, that desperate…

She fetched a chair almost unnoticed by him and sat down next to Jack as well, looking at him quietly without saying a word, holding back her tears.

They sat there in complete silence for a while until Fareeha raised her hand and brushed a sweaty strand of blonde hair from Jack's face.

Only now did she begin to understand the gravity of the situation. If Jack was so terribly sick, how was he ever going to be alright? 

Gabriel could see the tears sparkling in her eyes.

_ "How could this have happened?" _

She sobbed silently, barely able to hold herself together.

"I don't know."

Wrapping his muscular arms around her, he gently embraced her, rubbing her back as he silently muttered comforting words in Spanish.

He didn't know.

Not yet.

But he would.

Even if it were the last thing he did

-

When Gabriel returned to his office that night to retrieve his comm, he found a document that wasn't there before.

Laying on his desk, almost subtle, as if it wasn't of utmost importance.

"Official statement concerning Strike Commander Jack Morrison."

Gabriel flipped the first page open, revealing something that was by far more shocking than the title itself.

"Permission of euthanasia…"

He felt as if his world was collapsing right there and then. No. 

No.

It couldn't fucking be…

He would lose Jack forever.

Without even having a chance to fight back…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took longer to finish this chapter because I wanted it to feel right and perfect and I didn't until today. I hope you understand, it's a little longer than usual even :)  
> Thanks again for the all the kudos and comments, they mean a lot. Really.


	5. Running back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes ran. It was the only thing he ever knew.

Jack was dying.

It was too late.

Too late to save him.

Too late to get Jack back.

Or the Jack they once knew, he once knew.

Even if he woke up sometime, he might only be a shell of his former self, an empty husk, unable to lead Overwatch.  
Unable to take care of himself.  
Angela had told him that today, together with her colleagues. They no longer had high hopes about Jack’s recovery, claimed that even if they found a suitable antidote for the poison, it was highly unlikely that the Strike Commander survived.

Fuck.

That was all he could think of, put into words.

"Official approval of active euthanasia."

The headline alone forced a shiver down his spine.

What the hell...?

This couldn’t be legitimate, right?

"Dear Commander Gabriel Reyes,

In retrospect of Strike Commander Jack Morrison’s the critical health condition, we are conducting a survey amongst all high-ranking Overwatch and UN members - which will ultimately also count as a final vote "

Gabriel skimmed over the part justifying the use euthanasia.

How could this be?  
How dared they?

There was still hope, still time ...

Right?

"Please decide whether or not it is reasonable to warrant active euthanasia in this situation. Regardless of your choice, we kindly ask you to sign this document as soon as possible and hand it in via the official UN or Overwatch administrational office.

Best regards,

Director of Overwatch Bill Petras "

No, no, and no.

Nobody sane would such bullshit. It was just the UN’s euphemism of cold-blooded murder.

It was brutal. Inhuman.

Didn't these politicians have any emotions?

Didn't they feel love, pain, or grief like he was doing right now?

According to these papers, they didn’t.

Damn traitors. Talon probably had their hands in this too.

He had enough of all of this. Had to get out of here, away, run, clear his head.

But he couldn't allow himself to do that now. Maybe he should go back Jack while he still could ...

Whoever did this would pay.

Nobody, absolutely nobody, could hurt Jack this seriously and expect to get away with their lives…  
-  
The room would have been perfectly quiet if it hadn't been for the occasional beeping of the heart monitor and the hissing ventilator.  
Jack was still as lifeless in bed as the day before. His chest rose and fell entirely in sync with the machines.  
It seemed so forced, so unnatural, so bizzare. Jack's body had given up and yet they wouldn't let it die.  
Wouldn't let him die.  
Despite the artificial oxygen supply, Morrison still seemed to be short of air. His face ashen, lips cracked and having a violet tint to them.  
Gabriel should have brought a chapstick, Jack hated it when his lips were dried out.  
He loathed being sick, tied to bed, incapable to act, incapable to save the world, to help the people.  
Ever the hero..  
Now he no longer appeared like the young, dynamic commander Gabriel knew.  
Now he was just a weak man waiting for his death.

For a split second, Gabriel wondered if the UN hadn't been so wrong after all. Maybe it was better to redeem him from his suffering.  
Yet, what if there was still a spark of life in Jack, even if it was small?  
What if he could survive this?  
What if the UN and the doctors were all wrong?  
Nobody knew Jack better than him.  
He wouldn’t give up so easily. He wouldn’t surrender like that.  
He would fight, he did fight at the moment. They just had to grant him some time…

Reyes sighed, wished for nothing more but those stunning baby blue eyes of his to open. Oh, how he missed getting lost in them. In their glow.  
They were captivating.  
He was captivating.  
Gave you some much confidence and helped you believe in yourself like you never thought you even could.  
Morrison’s charisma was something else. He caused people to want nothing else but to follow him. Through hell and back if they had to.  
"Please Jack ... don't let me down"

Gabriel never wanted to be the Strike Commander. He wasn’t made to be in the spotlight, lacked the charisma for that. Only Jack could fake smiles perfectly and nod despite disagreeing with everything that was spoken. Gabriel would just yell at them and ruin everything…  
Besides, Jack was so much more mild-tempered and predictable whereas he was quite literally a wildcard. He wasn’t born to be in the office, he was born to be in the field.

Now, after so much sweat, blood and tears had been spilled by them, it was all for nothing.

Ultimately, they were worthless. Disposable.  
One died? Well, what are you waiting for, get a new one!

Not with him. The time for negotiations was over.  
They wanted war?  
He would give them hell.

Gabriel reached for Jack's hand and gently stroked his knuckles.  
Hold on. Please. Just a little bit more. You can do it. For me. For us.

He still wasn't moving. Just laid there still. Why did this have to happen?  
Leaning against the bed frame, he quietly shed a few tears. It was so damn unfair. Everything. Why jack?  
His hand now rested on his friend's chest, feeling every slow, desperate beat of his heart. How long would it continue to beat before it gave up like everyone else? Before it realized there was no point in keeping Jack alive.  
He stayed in this position for a while, let his tears flow. Counted every single beat he felt against the palm of his hand.

....1...  
Should he stay here at all?  
..... 12 ...  
Does Jack notice he is here?  
Does his presence get through to him?  
... 24 ....  
Why did they have so little time?  
Why couldn't they be happy?  
... 48 ...  
When would it be over? Would the UN do it by? Murder one of the most important men on this planet under a "justified" pretext?  
Unlikely. They always left the dirty work to someone else.  
.... 76 ....  
SEP, the good old days. Well, he couldn't really describe them as "good" per se. But the worries were fewer back then. More subtle.  
.... 100 ...  
Were they still described as two sides of the same coin? Incomplete without the other half? What would he do without Jack?  
Nothing. He was nothing without his second part. Just like the sun was nothing without its light.  
Jack was that light.  
Without brightness there was no darkness, without love there was no hate ...  
It were these contrasts that made them so perfect, so unique.  
But there was also no life without death ...  
This insight brought him back to reality. Into the hard truth.  
He couldn't let that happen, no.  
It couldn’t be over.  
-  
Angela was aware that she was running out of time.  
That she might not be able to save Jack anymore.  
Despite not wanting to admit it.  
She was still clinging to hope, believed that a miracle could still happen.  
But it wouldn’t.  
It never did.  
At least not in real life.  
The countless hours and attempts to find an anti-toxin had been unsuccessful for now.  
She hadn't found anything helpful. Nothing. Nothing at all-  
She wasn't ready to give up yet.  
Even if the originally planned 48 hours to find it were long over.  
The poison was just too complex. She had never seen anything alike in her entire life.  
It was based on over 10,000 individual compounds, of which she had to determine every single one in order to produce a reasonably effective antidote.  
The very first combination of atropine, potassium, magnesium, and some type of puff adder venom was more than confusing.  
The helplessness made her increasingly desperate. There was nothing she could do for Jack right now, just watch him suffer.  
It hurt.  
Hurt so incredibly  
You couldn't just lose him like that.  
Not to a stupid poison.  
To an assassin.  
To whoever out there wanted to see him dead.  
They needed their commander now more than ever.  
Angela stood up from her office chair and took another sip of her coffee. It was her seventh cup today, but the bitter-tasting beverage still woke her up every time. Gave her the only strength in these tough days.

She yawned, rubbed her swollen red eyes and thought about finally getting some rest.  
Briefly forget about her worries and frustration.  
But could she even afford that now? Would Jack still be alive when she woke up?  
Probably not anymore ...  
But maybe it would be even better that way ...  
No pain. No sorrow. No long-term medical disabilities and consequences until his death ...  
No, she couldn't think like that.  
Jack wanted to live, had to live, was a fighter who wouldn’t want them to give in now.  
Not when they were still in the midst of a battle…  
There was no way she could let him down now.  
No way.  
But what else could she do?  
When there was nothing that could help him?  
As long as his vital signs were reasonably stable, they had time to fix him. Fix this.  
Get him back.  
But how long would it be before that was no longer the case?  
Until he finally collapsed.  
Hours?  
Minutes?  
Days?  
Angela realized there was no point in dwelling on that thought.  
Hadn't she already tried everything?  
Should she just use one of her standard anti-toxins on him?  
Maybe they would help alleviate his symptoms.  
Then there would still be enough time to create a correct one.  
But what if it backfired?  
Then Jack would die in terrible agony and there was nothing they could do about it.  
She would never forgive herself for that ...  
No, she would find the antidote, she was sure of it.  
She just needed some sleep, some time to think everything through.  
-  
Reyes ran.  
He didn't for how long.  
Had completely lost his sense of time.  
Just breathed in the cold air of Zurich and prayed that his feet would carry him on.  
Round after round.  
Mile after mile.  
Away.  
Away from Overwatch, Blackwatch, the UN.  
Away from ... Jack.  
He couldn't take it anymore.  
It was too much. Way too much.  
Reyes threatened to break under the load on his shoulders.  
Maybe he should take time off.  
Go somewhere and forget everything. Be happy for a few precious moments.  
Not without Jack. ...  
Without him, the world seemed to have lost its colors  
All hope was gone ... and was replaced by emptiness.  
Infinite emptiness.  
He felt it inside of him, deep, and how it spread and numbed his feelings.  
How it tried to get rid of his grief, his love ...

Reyes grew more exhausted with every step.  
Threatened to fall down and collapse.  
He just wanted to drop. Let go. Give up.

Nothing made sense anymore, did it?  
What else should he do?

Just keep going…  
Step by step.  
Do not stop.  
He would be waiting for Jack. God knows how long it would take.  
He did not care. Without him, he wouldn't go anywhere.  
He couldn't go anywhere.  
Didn't have anyone.  
No chance.  
That's why he couldn't ... lose him.  
But he had no power over this, was not a doctor, could not work miracles.  
His medical knowledge was limited to first aid.  
No more, no less.  
Reyes doubted that that would be of any help now.  
Maybe just being close by was enough to help Jack?  
Just stand by him when he needed him most.  
Whispering soothing words to make his pain more bearable.  
Hold his hand.  
Just like back in SEP.  
On the other hand, he felt so ... useless. Idle.  
He wanted to help, had to help, but couldn't.  
Didn't know how, not when.  
He couldn’t stay in his room for more than ten minutes without crying.  
It was killing him inside.  
Brought him over the edge of despair.  
Took everything from him, more than he ever imagined.  
They needed nothing but one chance.  
Just one.  
He would take it immediately.  
Use it and never let go of it again.  
Gabriel glanced up at the bright white walls of the headquarters, recalled at the heroic ads he had seen about it, how it was supposed to inspire and spark hope.  
How it was a beacon of light for a better future.  
He almost had to laugh at the absurdity of it.  
Whoever believed that was ignorant. Blind to reality.  
It wasn't a building that encouraged people.  
It was Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked on this a long time because I didn't really know what to do with it but I'm very happy with how it came out now! I hope you liked it as much as I do :)


	6. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel returns to where it all started…

The blanket was pulled up to his hip, and Fareeha was resting her head on Jack's chest, listening to the weak unsteady beats of his heart. She tried to be gentle so as to not make breathing harder for him than it already was.  
Seeing him like this, depressed her deeply. He had always seemed so invincible to her. Undefeated by any of his many enemies.  
Now she was sitting here on a chair next to his hospital bed and wondered how wrong her assumption had truly been. Someone had hurt him, badly even.  
He might not even recover from it ever again.  
Just because of some stupid poison.  
Fareeha flinched when there was a change in his heart rhythm. It was getting considerably more irregular.  
She should get Angela but…  
She couldn't leave him alone right now.  
What if...he…  
No, she had to stay with him.  
Tears flowed down her cheeks, dropped down onto his pale skin. She couldn't lose him.  
Not now, not ever.  
Jack was family, like the uncle she never had. He taught her how to shoot, how to defend herself against bullies. How to be herself. Do the right things. Enjoy life.  
So much.  
It only made her sobs worse.

She had snuck out of her room to be with him, had lied to her mother just to be here. Jack was dying and she couldn't do anything to stop it.  
Nobody could.  
Probably.  
It looked like it so far.  
She had seen the doctors outside fretting over him. Their talk hadn't sounded all too enthusiastic and she understood now why.  
Fareeha flinched when she heard his heart pause for painfully long seconds before picking up it's flailing pace again. Tears streamed down her cheeks.  
How long would he still have?  
Would he ever be their Commander again?  
Or would her mom take over, even if he survived?  
What would the world do without him?  
What would Overwatch do without him?

They stood no chance against Talon if he died. He was their leader, their agents only followed him, he couldn’t be replaced, by no one, not even Uncle Gabe.  
Even the UN knew that though they didn’t want to admit it. She had overheard her mom talking to their representative. They thought it was the best to put Jack down. To let him die.  
Like he was a nobody. Like he wasn’t a hero.  
Because…  
Heroes never die.  
Or was that a lie too?  
Heroes did die.  
Jack too.  
He was dying right now, in front of her eyes, under her hands…  
And Fareeha felt herself powerless to stop it.

Could only stay still and hope he wouldn’t suddenly stop breathing.  
He didn’t. He couldn’t.  
The machines did it for him. Every thirty seconds, his chest rose and fell artificially. It made her shiver to think that if it weren’t for that, he would have passed days ago already.  
That if it weren’t for Angela and the rest of the med staff, he wouldn’t have stood a chance at all.  
But not even they seemed to be able to help.  
The nurse who checked on Uncle Jack every hour didn’t sound all too enthusiastic when she changed his lines and hung up the new IV bags.  
Something was wrong with his blood too as if him being unable to breathe wasn’t enough.  
Maybe today would be his last day. Or tomorrow. He couldn’t tell, neither could anyone.  
It wasn’t in their hands anymore.  
It was in Jack’s.  
Fareeha silently sobbed into his chest, clutching his cold motionless hand even harder.  
Please Jack, please wake up!  
They can’t kill you when you’re awake!  
-  
Gabriel found himself in the hall where it all started.  
The pristine white walls, peppered with Overwatch logos, made him even more anxious than yesterday. He despised dealing with politics and finances. Would rather be out, on missions, do some real work instead of sweet talking to the UN and whoever else filthy rich was there. He simply didn’t care for them and neither did Jack, he knew. On the contrary to him he didn’t have a choice to avoid them though. He had to keep the organization's reputation up. Had to secure their funding, make their arms deals, talk to pharma to procure the medical supplies they needed.  
It wasn’t an easy job. Not even a satisfying one. The Strike Commander often left the events as one of the last ones, completely exhausted. That’s why Gabriel had thought nothing of it when he did it again a few days ago.  
He would have never thought that Jack could have been poisoned, that someone wanted to harm Jack at a charity event. That they had traitors in their midst. Or Talon somehow got in.  
They didn’t even know how it happened.  
If it was his drink or the food or something else entirely. There was absolutely no trace left by the culprits. Whoever did this was experienced. Knew the HQ. Knew when Jack would be vulnerable. Knew how much poison he had to use so even his genetically enhanced body couldn’t stand it.  
Angela was still working on identifying it but at the moment there were no results. No signs of a cure. Nothing at all.  
They were running out of time fast.

That didn’t seem to apply to the rest of the staff though. The room was a mess still, cups and empty food wraps scattered all over the place, Overwatch flyers torn apart by shoes, even some coins, all on the floor. As if they were worth nothing.  
Nothing at all.  
Just like them, disposable.  
He glanced around, tried to recall the night but not much would come into his mind.  
He had spent most of it together with Ana and Jesse, drinking and talking about the past while Jack had been too busy talking down the high-society. He remembered him being stressed and complaining about a headache when they went out to smoke once but both of them hadn’t thought any of it, even joked on how they were working themselves to death these days. If only Gabriel had known that this would come true less than a few hours later.  
If only he could have noticed it earlier that something wasn’t right with Jack. 

Gabe squatted down, let his gloved hand run over the gray marble tiles as he picked up one of the paper cups in front of him, tilted his head when he noticed a thin layer of a milky white liquid in it. Must be one of the cleaning agents the housekeepers used, right? Maybe they tried to clean but ultimately failed. It wouldn’t even surprise him to be honest.  
Yet, it didn’t smell like any kind of soap they used. In fact, it was completely odorless.

Could it be the toxin? But why would the assassin leave some of it behind if he wanted Jack to die for sure?  
It must be a trap. Or maybe they weren’t as thorough as he had believed them to be.  
Either way it was worth it to check it out. See if they could find anything.  
If it was enough to save Jack…  
He got onto his feet again, threw back one last glance at the dark Overwatch logo on the wall, grimaced as he thought about how much pain it had caused to them. How it had changed them forever. How it was currently taking the love of his life…  
Gabriel had every reason to be bitter.  
-

When he met up with Angela later, Gabriel was greeted by the sight of Fareeha resting on Jack's chest, deep asleep, holding onto him tight.  
"No way…”  
He breathed, a smile on his face as he felt the tears flow down his cheek. She must have been thinking that this was her last chance to be with him. To be alone with him before the room was swarmed with doctors and nurses again. Before…  
His funeral. Probably. They had already asked if he wanted to plan it. He declined, obviously. Even if he didn’t think that Jack would survive anymore.  
It was only a question of time.  
Gabriel shook his head, wiped his tears with the heel of his palm.  
“Any news on the sample I brought you?”  
He had taken the cup straight over to her so she could get it checked out.  
“Nothing for now. It’s complicated…”  
Angela sighed, rubbed the nape of her neck while Gabriel cursed internally. How could there be absolutely nothing again?

"But his blood results are back…”

She paused for a short while, unsure how she should continue. Tell him the hard truth? Or…or leave out the worst? Could she do that to him? After everything he has been through in the last few days?  
With the UN and the media breathing down his neck constantly.

“He's getting worse. His hemoglobin levels are dangerously low and he is almost in a diabetic shock since the poison is eating up all the sugar in his system, no matter how much glucose we give him."

“So, what can we do about that?”

It was an honest question. Come on, it was only sugar! They could surely help him with that. And whatever the other thing was that was wrong with his blood.

“We can try and give him the glucose he needs to survive via his IV but it’s only a question of time until….”

Gabriel wasn’t listening anymore. He had known that it was over but Angela telling him once again, making him aware that every breath Jack took was precious and could be his last…

“I understand.”

He would cry himself to sleep again tonight.

-  
Ana paced restlessly up and down the corridor outside her Jack’s hospital room, unaware that her daughter as well as Gabriel and Angela were inside.  
She didn’t have the nerve to peek through the small observation window. Not again.

There had to be a solution for this.. chaos.

At least it couldn't end like that for Jack ... cruelly choked on some poison.

His vital signs deteriorated every minute. It wouldn't be long before ...

He gave up.

It was more concerning than ever. She was so close to losing her best friend and didn’t know how to cope with it.

It made her restless, almost insane.

She couldn't just watch him die in front of her eyes.

Under no circumstances. He was a soldier. Soldier’s died on the battlefield, not in some lousy hospital bed.

However, her hope was slowly dwindling.

Jack needed help and that soon.

An antidote ... just anything that would stabilize his condition.

Even if it were only temporary ... it would be better than nothing.

But please, anything ... it couldn't be so difficult.

After all, Jack was ... important to all of them. For the whole world.

If they couldn't save him, what would happen to Overwatch? She didn’t want to be the new Strike Commander and would resign if they made her take the position.

The med bay was completely silent except for the occasional squeak of her shoes on the hard plastic floor.

Oh how she loathed the quiet.

Ana knew it all too well ...

It never promised anything good.

In all her years as a sniper, she had seen this more often than she'd liked.

The calm before the storm.

The high before the low.

The hope before the fall.

It would end like every time, wouldn’t it?

Too many good people had already died in a war that made no sense.

Perished of things she didn't even want to imagine.

She couldn't do any of that anymore, it was too much, much too much ...  
Jack didn’t deserve to die...

Hot tears dripped down her cheeks, covering her face.

Would it really end like this?

She recalled sitting with him two hours ago and it broke her heart at the thought that he must be even worse now.  
Jack had been paler than ever before, eyes bloodshot and upper body covered in cold sweat.

It had been a terrible sight.

Her worst nightmare came true.

Just the thought of how much pain he must be in made her shudder in horror.

Hopefully they had sedated him.

Unconsciousness alone would not be enough.

Even if his condition was more like a deep coma.

Please wake up!

Survive

Come on.

You can do it.

Every time his chest had risen and fallen heavily with the help of the machines around him, she prayed it wouldn't be his last breath.

Just a little bit more...

Please hold on.

For Overwatch, the world, all of us.

They needed him.

Right now.

Not in another life.

-  
“The Strike Commander is dead. I’m sorry…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I am back at it again with some Angst :) How did you like it?  
> Thanks for the past comments and Kudos, I appreciate all of them <3


	7. Back in the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A jump in time...

_ ~Flashback - Gala night~ _

_ *Overwatch Headquarters Switzerland, ballroom, 11 PM* _

Jack hated charity events.

It was just a fancy shit show for celebrities and the UN, both of which he hated equally as much.

He didn't like their feigned smiles, their false compliments, their behavior towards him. It was so so wrong. So fake. Jack could see through it right away.

It was nothing more than a good play. A drama he found himself caught up in repeatedly. Shaking hands, laughing, it was taking all his composure to not tell them the truth. To not yell at them, show them how much he loathed being here, right now with them instead of saving lives. He could be out in the field instead, do actual work, help keep the peace, but they wouldn’t let him anymore.

It was too dangerous for the leader of Overwatch to actively engage in combat. At least that’s what they wrote on the documents declaring him unfit for duty. They even tried to find a medical condition to justify the statement to the public.

Jack stopped going to check-ups after he had gotten wind of it.

At first, he resisted. The people knew him, trusted him, civilians, and agents alike. If he hid in the safe walls of the Headquarters, what Commander was he to them then?

Right, a coward. A politician that didn’t care about them. He had no chance repealing their decision. It was final. He couldn’t put in words how much more he despised the UN after losing that fight against them. After losing his freedom to him.

He was barely leaving his office these days. Just to sleep.

Didn’t eat much, didn’t rest much. Couldn’t. Whenever he did, nightmares plagued him. Being awake was just as miserable. He wasn’t himself.

No longer he was Jack or the Strike Commander or Morrison. He was…

He felt so empty. So hollow. Useless. Stupid.

Jack sighed, took a sip from his champagne and grimaced as the fizz triggered a headache. A headache that he had since days, no weeks by now. At some point he had hoped it would kill him just to be over with it. With Overwatch and Talon.

But he couldn’t die. Couldn’t leave his friends behind. Not as long as the people still needed him.

They probably would call for his head anyways in the near future. When the UN tossed him away again and portrayed him as the villain. When the public stopped hailing him as their savior. The perfect human. Flawless. Beautiful. Strong.

He couldn’t allow himself to make mistakes, to fall and stumble. To get hurt, to be sick.

Nowadays, he couldn’t even go for a smoke during the days without being judged. Couldn’t drink. Couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t deemed healthy and hip by them.

There was no way he could pick up fast food at a drive-through without being stared at.

Oh, no! The Strike Commander is just eating as unhealthily as us normal folks. What a scandal!

Jack couldn’t take their hypocrisy anymore.

Sometimes he just wanted to be normal. Be Jack. Just Jack. No one else. Have fun, enjoy himself. Go out and see what’s going out in the ordinary world instead of being stuck in the high society bubble.

He hasn’t talked to anyone else but his soldiers and politicians in months.

It was destroying him, mentally and physically. His health was deteriorating. Yet if he showed any signs of weakness, the UN would be eager to replace him. Even get rid of him if they had to.

He knew their tactics. It was not uncommon for people who weren’t in their favor to simply disappear.

Mostly, they tarnished it as a car accident. A mishap. A tragedy that occurred.

If he could laugh, he would.

God, he hated it so much.

It was getting worse the more he thought about it.

_ “Commander Morrison! May I introduce….” _

Jack didn’t listen, nodded as if he did, just smiled his fake smile all while he gently rubbed his chest with his free hand as he felt a sudden stabbing pain behind his sternum. Ah, heartburn for sure. He just had too much alcohol and the super soldier enhancements were preventing him from getting drunk this way.

Or so…

He couldn't really tell for sure.

It had been a while since he genuinely felt his body like this.

It was almost refreshing to know he could still be in pain and not just constantly numb.

Not just constantly dead inside.

Sometimes also outside.

In general-

“Would you excuse me, please?”

He huffed, his hand still hovering over his chest. Gosh, the pressure was getting worse and worse and he could barely breathe right. Jack shook his head as the panic started to rise in his mind. No, this was nothing. He was just overworked and shouldn’t have had the special drink one of the politicians had offered him. Whatever had been in there, definitely wasn’t faring him all too well. Yeah, too much vodka and too much of this white juice he couldn’t exactly identify. They said it was coconut, he didn’t believe them. It was Bacardi or so.

For sure not something non-alcoholic.

As he walked outside on the balcony, he was greeted by Gabriel immediately.

_ “You got rid of the UN for a moment to visit me, Morrison? What an honor!” _

He just rolled his eyes, continued his stride over to the railing to overlook the park area underneath them.

“Cut it, Gabe.”

He wasn’t in the mood, especially not with the pain he was in. What if he had pulled a muscle in his chest? But that wouldn’t impair his breathing as badly, would it?

That’s what he had from not seeing a doctor in a year. For all he knew, he could be dying. 

Great. Another problem to deal with.

Reyes had quietly followed him after realizing that something was wrong with him. He never acted around him like this, always seemed to lighten up and relax when he was around.

_ “You’re doing okay?” _

Gabriel smiled softly as he offered him a cigarette and he gladly accepted it. Maybe it would finally help him calm down and forget about the blooming pain in his chest.

“Nah, feeling a little off. ‘M sure it’s just a cold but…”

He felt his friend tense up at his answer, they had been through a similar situation already when Jack almost died due to severe pneumonia after overdoing it in a training exercise in Siberia. They worried about his health for months later still. Gabriel would lie next to him and listen to his steady in and exhales through the whole night just to ensure he didn’t suddenly stop breathing.

_ “Don’t you want Ziegler to check it out?” _

Angela had taken care of it back then, too. She was competent and discreet, a reason why he never had issues with the UN concerning his medical studies, at least until recently. Now, every information that slipped through the med bay could mean his end.

“No, the UN is just waiting for a reason to get rid of me and something as simple as a cold could be enough of a justification for them.”

Hell, a light sneeze was probably enough for them to send him on leave indefinitely, acting as if they genuinely cared about his well-being while in reality, they weren’t giving a single shit about him.

_ “I see. You could take off tomorrow, tough. Rest. It’s no good if you work like this.” _

It was tempting to do just that. Take off. Sleep for 8 hours straight, eat right, catch up on his watchlist, read up on the books on his shelf, play chess with himself, exercise, go golfing, whatever…

No. It was way too suspicious if he was gone, even if it was only a day.

As a Commander, he wasn’t supposed to have any time to himself.

“I know, Gabe. I know. But I have no choice.”

Jack felt trapped, he was pulled in so many directions, he didn’t know where to go. What to do. How to act. Who to trust. It was like a never-ending circle of doom that would drag him down the line of destruction further and further until he had nothing left to lose.

_ “You always have a choice, Jack.” _

He shook his head, a look of despair on his face as he turned to look at Gabriel again, balancing the cigarette between his fingers.

“I don’t. You might but I don’t…I’m way too deep in this.”

He was caught up in their web, their intrigues, their game. There was only one way out and that was death. Death or losing everything.

Killing everyone.

_ “I can help you. I can..” _

Gabriel was caring too much. He loved him, he still did, more than ever before but that was a battle he had to fight by himself. All alone. Without anyone coming to help him. It was his way, his path.

If it meant he had to die for him, for them all, for the world, he would gladly accept his fate.

“No. No please stay out of this. I’ll deal with it.”

He couldn’t risk endangering his life too. Too much was on the line already and if he died, he wanted them to step up and take the lead instead of someone else the UN would choose. It was only a question of time until then and he wanted him to be ready and prepared.

“Goodnight, Gabe. I’m sorry.”

Jack stepped away from the railing, back into the bustling ballroom where there were politicians just waiting to talk him down, unknowing that only a few hours later, he would be fighting for his life…

_~Flashback end~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the last chapter was painful for ya'll so here is something a little less angsty for u :)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 8 coming soon!  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated:)
> 
> Psst, check out my [ Tumblr for any questions!](https://the-lonerider.tumblr.com)


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